The following is an excerpt from Dr. Chris Tee's anthropological exploration of living in the independent scene of Los Angeles. Most of his work from this venture has been destroyed by a neighborhood fire which took not only his research but also--reportedly--his life, though this is only speculation for his whereabouts are currently unknown.

You probably don't know this and I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm running out of time and they will catch me. But this is information that needs to be known by the general public. It is for the greater good. I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I'm nervous. But I have to tell you and I will tell you now.

The members of TRMRS are not who they say they are.

There. It has been said. You may not believe me. In fact, I bet you're thinking that I couldn't be more wrong about those cool, hip kids who play awesome California trash pop and drink PBR. BUT I AM NOT WRONG. I HAVE SEEN THEM.

A couple weeks ago, I met Loui A. Tomic. He seemed like a cool guy. He wore a hat. We bonded over this fact. But then, it hit me. His middle initial and last name spell "atomic." At first, I thought nothing of it. It could have been a joke or just a name used to sound cool like The Edge (except The Edge isn't a cool name). However, when TRMRS went onstage later, an earthquake that measured to be 8.7 on the Richter scale occurred in a vast part of the Pacific Ocean. It unearthed an island whose inhabitants descended from the lost Atlantis empire. They were celebrating a princess's fourteenth birthday when the earthquake destroyed their entire world.

I later spoke with Loui about this coincidence and he couldn't believe that that had happened. He bid "adieu" (he actually said "adieu") and then went off to talk to Anthony. Their conversation looked secretive.

It was then I decided that I needed to do some proper reconnaissance and follow them. I had a lot of difficulty with keeping myself hidden from their sight, but I managed to get to a house they were hanging out in. The garage door was closed, but I was able to peek through the windows that lined the top of it. Then that was when I saw...them.

They were all giant praying mantises.

I know. It seems crazy. It seems illogical. It seems maniacal. But I swear: I saw it. That hat that Loui and I had bonded over had now been donning the head of a humongous praying mantis.

They were sitting in a circle around a candelabra made of In N Out cups. The Loui praying mantis had passed an animal-style fry to the Max praying mantis who had been trying to get a solid grip on the Neapolitan milkshake that the Tommy praying mantis took from the Anthony praying mantis. It was almost ceremonial.

Suddenly, the Anthony praying mantis looked up and saw me spying. He held up a claw (it could possibly not be a claw but I don't know how else to describe their insect limbs) and the rest of the band turned to me. They started making praying mantis noises and praying mantis gestures. Soon, they peeled themselves off of the floor and crawled as fast as they could to the door, which, granted, wasn't that fast but they were huge so don't judge me.

Immediately, I bolted and headed for the closest place to hide. I cannot disclose the information of my exact location in case I have to hide there again (it was a pretty good spot).

Just whatever you do: do not trust them. If they try to befriend you, run. If they play music in front of you, listen, enjoy their show, give Tommy a strong handshake because he seems like the kind of guy who would appreciate that, and then run. If you see them hanging out together and walking in one general direction, take a picture of them on a disposable camera because that would be a cool shot and run.

Oh, no...OK. There is a hissing noise outside of my window. If you never hear from me again, you will

The file ended here with an elongated scribble. No further information about Dr. Tee's discoveries regarding the praying mantis and human hybrid have been found.